Her Majesty’s Secret Service

chapter 2



002. Pub in 16C

At the mention of the 16th century, the middle-aged man looked at me with a puzzled expression.

The man, who met my gaze, flinched and then spoke.

“Why… Why do you look at me with such eyes?”

The middle-aged man, feeling threatened by my gaze, clenched his hands.

To ensure he didn’t feel threatened by my gaze, I asked him cautiously,

“I was too flustered earlier and was rude. More than that, could you… could you tell me more about this story?”

“You’ve got quite the nerve. One moment you treat me like a kidnapper, and now you ask for a story…”

The man chuckled dryly and turned to enter the first floor of the building. It seemed he was ignoring my words.

“What are you doing standing there? Come in.”

No, it didn’t seem like he was ignoring me after all.

* * *

Following the man, I entered a room furnished with a long chair and a table.

In one corner, by the fireplace, a round pot was bubbling over with something inside. A strange scent wafted through the air.

It was as if I had stepped into a scene from a movie about a wizard with a lightning-shaped scar. Everything hinted that I had fallen into another era.

“What are you doing? Sit down.”

The man took a seat and beckoned me to do the same.

I sat across from him, and he wasted no time in speaking.

“Now that I think about it, we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. What’s your name?”

“Ah, my name is…”

I was about to say my real name naturally, but considering I might be halfway to the 16th century, I blurted out a name that would feel familiar to them. I inadvertently used Mr. Logan’s name as an alias.

“Logan, Logan Lee. That’s my name.”

“Ah, I see, Logan. My name is ‘Fred.’ Hmm… You look like you’ve come from quite far away. An Ottoman merchant I’ve heard of in stories? No, your name sounds English…”

“That… I’ve come from even further away. Um… a place called Korea.”

I answered Fred’s pondering about where I was from.

Fred tilted his head, looking puzzled by my response.

“Sorry, but I’ve never heard of it. Your clothes and your face, too, you must be from a place quite far from England.”

“Ah… Yes, it’s a bit of a distant place.”

“So, a traveler from such a far place, what business had you collapsing at Bishop Eli’s manor? Right in front of the servants’ quarters, no less.”

Bishop Eli, the servants’ quarters? This too was a tale I’d heard in Uncle Logan’s ramblings.

The pub used to be where the bishops’ manor stood, and during Queen Elizabeth’s time, it became the land of some noble, he had said.

“Ah, that is… The truth is, I can’t seem to remember anything…”

No plausible excuse came to mind. What could I say, that I fainted upon meeting a ghost and woke up here?

When in such a situation, feigning memory loss is as effective as anything.

“You can’t remember? Hmm… That’s most unfortunate. To recall where you came from, yet not why you lay here… Quite unfortunate indeed…”

Apparently, it wasn’t so effective after all. Fred looked at me with openly suspicious eyes.

“What can I do if I truly can’t remember?”

Fred, without batting an eye, nodded his head at my defiant stance, though his gaze remained doubtful.

“Let’s leave it at that then. If it’s too hard to speak of, no need to force it. As long as you haven’t stolen something or fled after committing a murder. So, what story is it that you wish to hear?”

“That is, you said it’s been six years since Edward VI became king?”

“Yes, after the late King Henry VIII passed, his rightful heir Edward VI ascended the throne. It’s already been six years.”

It’s been six years since Edward VI became king.

According to Uncle Logan, Edward VI was young when he became king, but due to his frail health, he didn’t live past six years. Surely… it was July 1553.

It was surely a passing comment over drinks, yet I remember it so vividly. Something was odd, but that wasn’t what mattered now.

“Then… may I also know what month it is now?”

“It’s April.”

April, then three months to go.

In three months, Edward VI will pass away, and the Duke of Northumberland, Dudley, will proclaim his daughter-in-law as queen.

And after just nine days, she will be dethroned by ‘Bloody Mary’.

Bloody Mary, or Mary I, called so for her tyranny, will die in 1558, five years after her ascension. Following her, the renowned Elizabeth I will take the throne.

Strangely, it felt as though Uncle Logan’s drunken history lectures were swirling in my head.

As if pulling a desired book from a drawer, whenever I thought, knowledge about it surfaced in my mind.

I even tried to recall something like the formula for gunpowder, but there was no response.

It seems only the things I know or have seen come to mind.

Though I’m not sure how, this ability seems like it could be a great help in living through this era.

Having accepted that I’ve landed in the 16th century, I must think about what comes next.

This year, Mary will ascend to the throne, and in five years, Elizabeth will follow.

Checking my belongings earlier, I found nothing missing; everything was intact.

The leather wallet doesn’t seem like it will be of much use… Perhaps the map is the only thing that might help in this era.

There seems to be no use for the speech, and I haven’t yet read the contents of the book I bought.

‘What now… Can I return home? No, how could I when I don’t even know how I got here…’

I can’t remember the last thing I saw.

It seemed like someone whispered a plea for care, but there’s no way to know who the voice belonged to.

“Why are you silent?”

My thoughts must have been quite lengthy, as Fred’s puzzled voice rang in my ears.

“No, I just had something to think about…”

“Hmm… Is that so? Well, we’ve talked enough for now. I have things to do, so would you mind leaving? I need to start preparing the meal.”

“Mealtime?”

“I told you, this is the servant’s quarters of Bishop Eli’s estate. The servants’ meals are also taken care of here.”

“Uh… then where should I go?”

“How should I know?”

It’s good that I’ve grasped the situation, but the immediate problem is that I have nowhere to eat or sleep. Anyway, in 16th century England, I am a complete foreigner.

I could be accosted on the road or attacked by robbers.

England of this era was not the advanced country it is today, but merely a second-rate nation stuck on the edge of Europe.

“Excuse me… is there perhaps an empty room here? Or are you hiring more servants?”

“Servants? Who would hire a foreigner like you?”

“Don’t be like that…”

To survive, I had to cling to this place. It would be too unjust to die at the hands of robbers after being stranded in the 16th century.

“Good grief, do you know that? If someone other than me had found you collapsed on the street, you might already be stripped naked and rolling around in the slums over there.”

“Ah, I know, I understand very well.”

“Then, instead of repaying the kindness of the person who bestowed such a favor upon you, you accuse them of kidnapping, and outright ask if there’s an empty room. Don’t you think that’s rather inappropriate? Huh?”

A sharp criticism strikes my ear. No, it’s not so much criticism as it is… something indirect…

“So, what, am I asking for repayment? That’s not what I’m saying! At the very least, a person should… huh?”

By this point, it’s not indirect at all. It’s quite straightforward. ‘If you want to stay here, you need to offer something.’

Do I have anything to give?

Of course, the contents of my bag were absolutely not something I could give away.

Wondering if there was something else besides the contents of my bag, I rummaged through my pockets and a few gold coins popped out.

No, this isn’t a coin…

“Heh, a friend who speaks my language! It’s a bit much to take three gold coins… just one will do…”

Fred quickly snatched one of the gold coins, no, a gold coin-shaped chocolate from my palm. Then, biting into the chocolate wrapper and all, his eyes widened in shock as he exclaimed.

“What is this! This isn’t gold!”

Without waiting for an explanation, Fred had bitten into the chocolate and now spat out complaints. Then, he tore open the ripped wrapper and popped the melted, mushy chocolate into his mouth.

His face full of complaints as he licked the chocolate, but soon the sweetness spreading in his mouth evaporated his disgruntled expression.

Astonished by the subtle sweetness he was tasting for the first time, Fred let out an exclamation.

“Good heavens! To think such a confection existed! You were a merchant! Did you hide your identity to prevent this from being stolen? This is a taste I’ve never experienced before. Where on earth did you get this?”

He had taken the chocolate on his own accord, mistaking it for gold, and now he seemed to think I was a merchant.

Indeed. At this time, such solid chocolates didn’t exist, and sweetness was a privilege of the nobility, so it made sense that Fred, who appeared to be a commoner, would be mistaken.

He was kind enough to bring me here when I was down and even decided my status on his own.

“Where, you ask? I brought it from where I came. Was it a sufficient reward?”

Intoxicated by the sweetness, Fred nodded his head vigorously.

“Mmm… Yes, it’s enough of a reward. Yes, indeed.”

Then, stretching out his hand, he continued slyly.

“That, two pieces. No, just one more, and it seems a place might become available.”

* * *

As it turned out, this place was a lodging and inn for the servants of Bishop Eli.

There were hardly six servants, and the empty rooms were often offered to travelers who came by.

Having offered two pieces of chocolate, I decided to stay at this inn and help Fred in exchange for room and board.

I wondered what it would have been like if I had sold that chocolate to start a business, but there was no guarantee others would be as kind as Fred. So, I just let it be.

Anyway, listening to the servants and guests of the bishop’s manor these past few days, I’ve begun to grasp the situation.

London now seemed very narrow compared to the modern city. The smallest administrative district of modern London, ‘The City of London,’ was what they referred to as London in the 16th century.

Hearing the descriptions of London, nothing else came to mind.

“Hey Logan! Logan!”

Fred’s voice looking for me echoed from the morning. Fred was a good employer who paid his wages diligently.

Isn’t it natural to pay for labor? Of course, this was money excluding room and board.

After finishing work each day, he gave me a shilling coin, and I planned to save up for about a month more to start a business.

There must be one or two business ideas. Why not make and sell soap?

“Logan!!”

Fred’s voice grew louder. Worried something big had happened, I hurried downstairs.


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